


Lyna

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Vhenan and Associated Stories (Lyna Lavellan) [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: Lyna wants to protect everyone, and when she can't it hurts.





	

Her long, milky white hair flowed across her shoulders in gentle curls, blowing slightly in the breeze. Her pale skin was clear and looked soft to the touch. Her lips were oddly dark in her pale face, bow-shaped and wide. Her straight, slender nose was reddened by the cold mountain air. Her unusual, violet eyes were burning with fury, and though she was small and slender as all Elvhen were, she was terrifying in her anger.

“Don’t you dare say to me that it could not be helped!” she snapped, her voice cracking across the recruit like a whip. “You could have done something, anything else! They should not have died for your actions!”

The poor man before her was hunched low, flinching at each word as if it were a physical blow. She was right, and he knew it, but what hurt the most was that she was sad more than she was angry. She was disappointed in him. She had trusted him, and he had failed her. Though she was of a race that held no power in human law, though she had once been mistaken for a kitchen servant by every visiting dignitary, her people loved her. That was the most incredible aspect of her. She had such a way with people, could woo anyone to her side almost effortlessly. It wasn’t just that she had charm and beauty. It was her intelligence, her curiosity, and her empathy that made her so inherently likeable. She could laugh at her own mistakes, she could admit when she was wrong. She would look at each situation from every side and leave no one feeling unheard or unwelcome.

And thus, her anger was terrible. Refugees had died because the recruit had been too slow to act. They could have been saved, and instead she’d had them burned with all the honors that would be given to royalty. She cried at their pyres because she felt that they should have lived, that if she had been stronger, better, that they would have been alive.

And it was this part of her that had first drawn Solas to her. She wasn’t just Dalish. She wasn’t just Elvhen. She was a protector, a guide, and a friend to everyone who needed her. The Inquisition needed her. She was the leader that Thedas needed to save it from Corypheus and from itself.

Her words lashed the young human before her, and soon he fell to his knees before her. She described to him, in intimate detail, who each person who had died was. She knew their names, their ages, their families. She told him about the kind of people they had been, and he began to sob. She made the dead into people for this man. They weren’t numbers or abstract words or statistics anymore. She forced this man to examine the lives that were lost because of his mistakes, and he sobbed at their loss.

“Lyna,” Solas said, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. “That’s enough. He understands, and he will never make that mistake again.”

She turned to him, and her fury began to dim. The light of her anger in those incredible, violet eyes died and they began to swim with tears. Her anger was a tool, a lesson for this man, but what she truly felt was sorrow. The man before her would remember this lesson for the rest of his life, as would all who witnessed it.

She sniffled back tears and shrugged away from his touch. With her head held high, she strode away. He would find her, go after her, in a few minutes. He needed to let her cry away from prying eyes, and then he would offer her what comfort he could. He owed her that much, at least.


End file.
